Tomorrow I will spent the whole day travelling to Plymouth together with my parents, to bring Sandra to her final resting place. She wanted her ashes to be scattered at one of her favourite places in the city, which her sons and me will do sometimes this weekend. It’s a strange feeling to be this close to letting her go, but it is the last thing I can do for her. Hopefully this will be a bit of (ugh) closure as well.
Practically speaking, because going by plane was not an option (expensive, much too much of a hassle, fscking airlines nickling and diming you to death), we’re going by train. First leg is from Amsterdam to Brussel, then onto London, mad dash on the Underground and then the train to Plymouth, which takes about as long as getting from Amsterdam to London.
The Dutch trains will be alright, unless the railways find yet another way to derail (pun not intended) traffic around Schiphol, the international train a doddle, but I’m dreading the souped up metro style cattle cars the British call trains. Most of my experiences with them have been dreadful: overcrowded, slow, far too many far too loud completely irrelevant tannoy messages, prone to endless delays, claustrophobic. Oh well, when in doubt, crank up the volume on the mp3 player and try to sleep.
Jay Vos
April 18, 2012 at 8:58 pmUnder other circumstance, it might be a nice trip to Plymouth. I won’t say ‘happy travels,’ but I do hope you get there and back in one piece.
My dad was born in New Jersey. In 1994 he died in New Jersey, in 1992, my mom. Dad and I planned in 1995 to visit the Netherlands for the fiftieth anniversary of the end of WWII, as he had served in the merchant marine during the war (and the Scheepvaart Museum in Amsterdam was having a special exhibit honoring that service; we had planned to attend.) Of course he never made it. But I was able to bring his and mom’s ashes to Zeeland, to be buried under a prunis (sour cherry) sapling within sight of the Veerse Meer. I was living in Houston at the time; my brother in New Jersey FedEx’d some of the comingled ashes of our parents to me. We had decided to drop some of the ashes in every place my parents had lived. I kept them in the shipping envelope, put them in my suitcase, and was able to fly with them to Schiphol and travel to Wolphaartsdijk without a hitch. If I’d done that now, I think there’d be a million hassles. I read some poems by Sara Teasdale and John Masefield and my Dutch aunt made coffee, “typisch zeeuws met bollussen.” :)
Strength and courage, Martin. – Jay
Jay Vos
April 18, 2012 at 8:59 pmOops, my bad… my Dad was born in Zeeland! My bad.
Martin Wisse
April 19, 2012 at 12:35 amThanks Jay. That was a lovely way to say goodbye to your parents.
Robert
April 19, 2012 at 4:52 pmSave travels. My thoughts are with you.